Drowning
by CoralFox
Summary: DISCONTINUED GrimmIchi, Yaoi, AU, M for violence
1. Introduced to the Strawberry

_Barrrum...barrum...barrum...barrum..._

The deep, resonant sound pounded through his head, through his neck, through his chest...

_Barrrum...barrum...barrum...barrum.._

What did it mean, he wondered? Why, why, why...pain, there was pain...why was there pain? Pulling, tugging, it wouldn't stop, it happened before, but why?

That was always the question. _Why._

The pain stopped.

He wished everything else would stop, too.

_What a mess!_ That's what everyone thought of him. It couldn't be helped, and unfortunately, it never would. Only hopeless attempts were an option. An option out of very few, and an option that would never, no matter how hard anyone tried, _ever_ succeed. And yet, people still tried and it infuriated him. It maddened him even more than his already present madness, and it was because underneath his mental instability, he was conscious of the futility of it all. He knew he was mad, and that's what made him all the madder, and for once, just _once_, he wished for the warm, wet blanket of being blissfully unaware.

And off, far down the hallway through a cherry wood door that held a cold and steely doorknob sat a man at his desk in a very, very uncomfortable plastic chair. A mop of messy blue hair sat upon said man's head, and two piercing blue eyes were placed nicely on his face. They moved side to side as he read and wrote, his eyes beginning to tire from the constant reading and his fingers beginning to ache from the incessant writing. It seemed that this was all he did, as of late. Reading, writing, some more reading and a little more writing. No, make that _a lot_ of writing.

Sighing and running a hand quickly through his hair, he leaned back and decided to take a small break. That's what he liked to call them, anyway. He could sleep for hours on end, but a certain brunette always made sure it was never any more than five minutes; ten if he was lucky. His eyelids became heavier the harder he tried to stay awake, but he wasn't really trying to fight it. In fact, the only reason he fought it at all was because that's what made him sleepier, as ironic as it seemed. His success in this contradicting statement did not last, however, as the door slammed open and his bulgy eyed co-worker came in panting, his skinny little hands resting on his wobbly little knees with his very large head resting in between his very little shoulders.

"There...suh...patient...need...your...muscles," said the breathless doctor as he wrinkled his white jacket against the door frame. "Room...s...six!"

Grimmjow's sharp blue eyes shot open at this, his eyebrows raising slightly. "Sorry, but that patient's just gonna have to ask for some exercise equipment if he wants a body like mine," replied Grimmjow, smirking. The bluenette, however, knew exactly what was going on and what was needed; he simply did not want to leave his uncomfortable plastic chair.

Hanatarou gave Grimmjow a pleading look, his large black eyes wavering as he began to regain the little strength he had in his petite body. He was still leaning against the door, but his speech was no longer interrupted by heaves and pants. "In room six, the patient is going absolutely wild. The doctors," an intake of breath, "they need you to hold him down so that they can sedate him." His voice had both a sliver of fear and importance, and he was finally standing on his own.

Grimmjow groaned - although it sounded more like a growl - and slowly pulled his chair out, the legs making a slight screeching noise against the hard white floor. He pulled on his white overcoat, stepped out of his white office, listened to his footsteps echo loudly across the white hallway...

...so much white.

...So much white...it calmed him. But he still yelled, he still screamed, he still pushed himself over and over against the soft white walls. Black was taking over his vision in small blotches, blotches that looked like splatters of blood, and soon he couldn't feel anything. It was like sinking, like water in a bathtub when you pulled the plug. Swirling slowly, gently, and draining everything...

"WHERE THE HELL IS GRIMMJOW?"

"_Agh..!"_

The door burst open and the man who was mentioned only a second ago surveyed the room quickly. Two men were bending over in pain, clutching their stomachs and gasping for air as three others were fighting and trying to hold down the struggling patient. He ran a hand through his blue hair once again, sighing and getting ready to help the others quiet down the mental spazz that was blocked from his vision.

But _he_ could see Grimmjow.

_Blue..._

He always liked that color. Blue. If you said it too many times, it would start to sound funny...

_Blue, blue, blue, blue..._

_Barrum, barrum, barrum, barrum..._

And then he fell over, his chocolate brown eyes glazed but still alive. He was just not with them, the doctors, those...those..ahaha...those _motherfuckerssss._

His eyes were more alive than ever, now.

"What the fuck?"

Grimmjow stood at the doorway, completely confused and slightly pissed. But he was always slightly pissed. That wasn't the point, anyhow, the point was, simply, what the fuck? What happened? And most importantly, in his mind, could he leave now? He wanted nothing more than to take a nice nap in his plastic chair and have his ass fall asleep from sitting on it too long.

"Well you came right when we needed ya, huh?" groaned a large, burly hunk of muscle. Bright and spiky red hair was tied securely on the top of his head, a large calloused hand holding onto a bruised shin.

"Well sooorry, Renji, it's just that my office is five fucking halls away and I had to take a piss," snapped the teal haired doctor, his eyes narrowing.

Tattooed eyebrows furrowed in frustration as Renji slowly tramped over to the patient who had just been going berserk and who, for reasons unknown, was completely placated now.

"I really regret applying for a job at this loony bin..," the redhead mumbled.

"Same," groaned a long, lanky body lying in a fetal position on the floor.

_'The patient took down Nnoitra? Damn, motherfucker must be strong.' _And that was when Grimmjow decided to take a look at said patient, curiosity poking and prodding him forward.

Immediately, he knew that curiosity had killed the cat. He couldn't move an inch further, because he was completely and utterly stupefied. He wasn't sure why, but it either had to be how pitiful it was to see a person like that, or how amazingly good looking the guy was. Grimmjow then slapped himself mentally. It was normal for him to think that, right? I mean, it didn't mean he was gay or anything..dammit.

There was a slow ache in his chest, and he immediately assumed it was pity. _'Poor kid.'_ The patient looked like he should have been on the verge of starting his life, hanging with friends and having fun. Going to college and getting his first job...Grimmjow could half understand what the orange haired patient was going through.

"What's the kid's name?" he asked, his mouth pulled into a small frown.

"Ichigo."

Everyone stared in shock.

"D-did he..?"

"That's the first thing he's ever said since he's gotten here.."

"..."

"Should we sedate him in case..?"

"No," Grimmjow stated firmly, his eyes steady and filled with authority. "Has he eaten yet?"

"Well, that's how this happened, actually, we were bringing his lunch when he started going crazy.."

"Bring the food," ordered Grimmjow. _"Now."_

"Okay, okay!"

Renji limped back into the room, a brown plastic tray with food on it clutched in his hands. "Listen, that kid might start going nuts any second, and my shin already hurts like hell.."

"Fine," huffed Grimmjow, "If you're gonna be a damn pussy, I'll feed 'im."

"I ain't bein' a pussy, you asshole, I-" was all Renji could manage before Grimmjow snatched the tray of food out of his hands and stomped on the redhead's foot.

"MOTHERFU-"

"Renji!"

Slowly, he turned his head towards the direction of where the stern voice was coming from. Just as he feared...Rukia. She seemed all nice and innocent and sweet and shit on the outside, what with her small frame and large blue and purple eyes, but to Renji she was the devil in a human's body.

"Yes?" he hesitantly replied, unknowingly wringing his hands nervously. His eyes had gone wide, and his smile could be mistaken for creepy instead of what it really was: fearful.

"Don't use such foul language! And stop hopping around while holding your foot! And help me hand out these medications, and-"

"Okay, okay, dammit, slow down-"

"And don't interrupt me! And I just said not to use foul language! I swear, Renji, you are such an idiot...," and on and on it went, like a lizard running a never-ending road across a wide desert. Renji sulked and limped after her, his lips in a pout and his arms crossed.

"That woman...," muttered Grimmjow. He felt kind of bad for Renji, but not much. His amount of pity for his "friend" was about the size of a piece of dust...mite. Yeah. And not even an entire dust mite, just a piece of one.

"Well, we'll leave the feeding to you," said Ishida, his glasses crooked and his short black hair tousled. He looked very disgruntled, and his frown was wider than usual.

"Kay then, bye fag," said Grimmjow under his breath. Ishida glanced at him for a moment, his rectangular glasses flashing and his sharp eyes set in a glare.

"There's a button over on the left in case Ichigo starts having another fit. Just press it once and it will alert the..._brute squad_," Ishida said the last part slowly, as if he considered the brute squad a bunch of muscular gorillas with no brains.

Ishida, Nnoitra (who was holding his stomach), and the two other doctors left the room and shut the door. The clicking of the doorknob reminded Grimmjow of the sound of a gun's trigger being pulled.

"Alrighty, Ichigo," a small shiver went down Grimmjow's spine, "time to eat."

The carrot top didn't move.

"Hey, Strawberry, I ain't got all day."

Still no movement. Maybe a blink.

Grimmjow was sighing too much that day. He rubbed his face with his hands and tried once more. "Hellooo? Anybody home?"

"Heh...hehehehehehehe! Are they gone?"

Blue eyes widened as Grimmjow's eyebrows shot up to his hairline. _"I thought they said this kid wasn't talkative," _he thought as he walked closer towards the boy, the straitjacket ripped and torn so that his left arm was laying out on his side.

"Ne, ya' don't think ya' can take this lil' contraption offa me, do ya?" asked Ichigo, nodding his head downwards to show that he was talking about the straitjacket.

"Sorry, no can do," replied the baffled doctor, wondering whether he should press the button that Ishida told him about or not. _"I'm not sure if those brute monkeys can help in this situation, though.."_

"Tha's a shame," the carrot top said, turning his head to the side and faking a sad expression. He was still lying on the floor, his legs far apart and the back of his hair flat against the soft, cushiony floor. "I mean, I already have ma' left hand out, so what's the big difference if my right one comes out, too?"

"The difference is you can already take down five guys with one of your arms out, so I'm not letting the other one get freed so you can kick my ass, too, that's what."

Shiro smirked; those pansies were nothing. But this guy, he looked pretty tough...still not tough enough to beat him, of course. No one ever was. And it was a rare occasion to be free of his usual restrictions, so he really felt like kicking some butt. He could feel his fingers twitching with anticipation, and his legs felt restless and frustrated, but he could feel Ichigo pushing against the barrier that was letting Shiro take control, and he couldn't risk trying to fight when Ichi-chan was struggling.

The door to the room opened once more, making a small squeek. Ishida sauntered in, carrying a new straitjacket and pushing up his glasses.

"I tailored these specifically for Ichigo so that the sleeves won't rip again. Has he been showing any strange behavior?"

Grimmjow remained squatted near the caramel-eyed mental patient, thinking. _"To tell the prick or not to tell the prick, that is the question." _Well, a little secret wouldn't hurt.

"Nah, he's just been lyin' there doin' nothing."

Rectangular glasses were pushed up yet again as Ishida nodded and walked over to Ichigo, unfolding the new straitjacket as he strode across the room. Ichigo made no movement and remained completely still besides the steady rise and fall of his chest.

Shiro replaced his maniac smile with a small scowl right before Ishida could see his face.

Ishida squatted next to Grimmjow, the legs of his pants going up as he did. Ichigo did not struggle, and as the black haired doctor moved Ichigo's arms around and propped him into a sitting position he did not show any emotion. His face was blank, and his eyes were cold and empty.

"Well, that should do it..," Ishida stated, his arms crossed like he was satisfied with his work. And yet..and yet, he still felt that something was off, and to him, even thinking for a second that something was wrong with his work was off.

"Yeah, so you can get goin, ne' fairy?" growled Grimmjow, his arms resting on his knees. _"Did I just see one a' the veins in Ishida's forehead pulse?" _the bluenette thought, smirking, one of his sharp canines showing and making the rest of the room look off-white.

The 'fairy' stalked out of the room, fists clenched and looking more grumpy than ever.

Shiro glimpsed over at the blue-head, curiosity gleaming in his deep brown eyes that now had a small tint of gold in them.

"_I think I'll have fun with this doctor." _And he was grinning once more.

* * *

This is my first fic, so it might suck = v =;;; lots of love to my miku, who helps me with it 33 Q7Q heavily inspired by Racey's "Thriller" and xXsnowfeltXx's "Taming the Red Queen," you must look those up Q _ Q so amazing.


	2. Verge of Realization

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

"Grnghgh.."

_Beep! Beep! Beep!_

"Fuggin..dammit.."

_BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!_

A large hand violently slammed down onto the source of the disturbance, the noise ceasing and a head of tousled blue hair raising up from a ruffled pillow. Irritatingly bright sunlight flooded through the window, making Grimmjow squint and stumble out of bed clumsily. His feet slapped against the hardwood floor, white bedsheets falling and pooling around his toes as he began to walk towards the bathroom. A deep, rumbling sigh eased out of his chest, his face dripping with cold water. He grabbed the plush towel next to the sink and messily wiped his face dry, the tip of his bangs slightly wet and dripping.

Another day to waste away.

He grabbed a coffee at Starbucks, picked up a burger from a small take out and then started briskly towards his car down the sidewalk. His uniform rustled underneath his dark brown jacket, cold hands huddled in cold pockets. He pressed the unlock button on his car keys, small clicks simultaneously going off as the locks in the car doors went up. Quickly, he opened the driver's seat and slid in, taking his hands out of his pockets and blowing into them. He started the engine and waited for the car to warm up so he could relax his body, his shoulders tense from the biting frost of winter.

"Fzzsssisszfzzz -storm ahe-fszsssszsssss-arning until midnigh-sssssssszsss-."

Grimmjow fiddled with the radio, giving it a hard stare as if it should have read his mind and been on the right channel the moment he turned it on. Finally, it landed on a decent station, one of his favorite songs flowing through the now warm car.

_I keep the wolf from the door but he calls me up,_

_Calls me on the phone, tells me all the ways that he's gonna mess me up_

He slowly pulled out from in between the two cars that were in front and behind him, constantly checking the rear-view mirror. The rocks crumbled noisily beneath the tires of his car, and his mind wandered back to the orange-haired patient, Ichigo Kurosaki.

_'Wonder what his parents were thinkin' when they named 'im Strawberry,' _he thought absentmindedly.

The car now slightly stuffy from the AC, he reached towards the knobs and buttons and turned the heat down as he sniffled a bit. His head felt light from lack of sleep but at the same time heavy from the warm air.

"I hate life," he grumbled, rubbing the back of his hand against his nose to make the sniffles stop. His other hand rested on the steering wheel as he drove steadily towards the asylum, lips set in a thin line as he thought about other things he hated.

The day dragged on, and everything felt like it was playing in slow motion. And it seemed that at hourly intervals, the video got slower and slower, and Grimmjow, with much difficulty, was forcing the cogs in his head to turn. They rotated with a painful creak, lag, and snap.

Everything went so slowly, soooo sloooooowly, and it drove him to the point where he felt like _he_ belonged in a straitjacket. Sitting in his chair, pondering with a dull curiosity about his life, he came to a depressing conclusion. Morning, night, it was all repetition. Afternoon, evening, it was basically the same, every day, every minute, and all the little changes brought no feelings of refreshment. He would forget what he had for dinner the day before, but it didn't matter. It wouldn't be any different today, even if he had spaghetti yesterday and was eating a taco today. Breakfast, lunch, dinner..the only difference was the time.

What irritated the doctor the most was that every day, every single day he hoped something exciting would happen. Every morning he would get a small burst of adrenaline after waking up, and it felt like his stomach was saying, _'Something fuckin' good is gonna happen today!'_

Nothing happened. All he met at the end of the day was utter disappointment settling like a heavy stone in the pit of his gut.

_'That's thirty-two years,' _he thought, twiddling a silver pen in between his index and middle finger. _'Almost every year has three hundred and sixty-five days, so that's three hundred and sixty-five times thirty-two...,'_ but his math process was cut short by a dull knock on his office door.

"Come in," was the mumbled response. Grimmjow laid his pen down and repeatedly tapped the wooden surface of his desk with his index finger, his mind wandering. It felt like his head was filled with golf balls that were just bouncing around, bumping into each other and making befuddling clunking noises.

Starkk ambled in, a few strands of dark brown hair resting across the bridge of his nose.

"Oh. Sup, boss."

"Sup."

"..."

Grimmjow stared expectantly at the brunette, but his expression remained bored and tired. "So..."

"Huh?"

The doctor sitting at the desk inwardly facepalmed. "Did ya need somethin, boss?"

"Oh. Yeah..," Stark rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands, "It's that kid...the...uh...Kuromaki kid, I think, something like that.."

Grimmjow lifted his chin from his palm, his attention reeled in by the familiar name. _'Kuromaki...Kuromaki? I feel like I've heard that before..'_

The brunette across the room coughed quietly into his hand once before continuing, "We've decided that you be his caretaker, since you're one of the stronger doctors, I guess," yaaawn, "And..eh...his room is number six, I think."

_'How the fuck does this guy run an asylum?' _thought Grimmjow, _'He doesn't even look like he could run a—wait. Six?'_

Stark, who was now sitting in the chair near the small refrigerator, noticed the quick snap in which Grimmjow's facial expression changed. "You okay, kid?" he asked, but it sounded like "Yuh oheh, kih?" because he had yawned while saying it.

"Room..six?" replied the quite confused looking doctor. "The Kurosaki kid?"

"That's what I said, right?" Starkk mumbled mostly to himself, leaning back into the creaking chair as his eyelids drooped sleepily.

"Huooooooooh...?" Grimmjow let his mouth hang open. _What?_

"Listen, we could get Shuuhei to do it if you're afraid of the kid going berserk on y-"

"What? Hell no! I'm not scared, I'll do it, jeez!" Grimmjow quickly and clumsily slammed his left cheek into the palm of his hand once again, his mouth pushed over to the side and forming puffy fish lips. The usually dull, languid, blue orbs were now brighter, and if you looked closely, you could see...

"The fuck are you doing?"

Starkk was now standing on the other side of Grimmjow's desk, his palms flat on the surface and his nose only centimeters away from Grimmjow's.

"Examining."

"Examining what, may I ask?"

The nose slowly receded, and Starkk nodded his head slowly. "You'll definitely do a good job. I leave Kuro..m..saki in your care."

Grimmjow sat there, a childish wide-eyed and confused look blossoming on his rough face. "I work with a bunch of weirdos." He repeated that in his head as he pushed his chair out, walked out of his office door and made his way to the room where the patients' records were kept.

He was still repeating it in his head as he walked down the hall, bright florescent lights shining above him and making his hair a blinding aqua blue.

And even as he was rummaging through files of patients under "K," he was still saying _'Weirdos...weirdos...weirdos...aha!'_

Clumsily flipping the tan folder out of the filing cabinet, Grimmjow opened the thick, folded paper and pulled out the thinner sheets from inside. For some reason he was almost trembling with anticipation, the thought of reading about exactly why the Kurosaki kid was here was pushing the doctor off the edge of the cliff of curiosity.

_**Kurosaki, Ichigo**_

_Gender: M_

_Date of Entry: December 26th, 2005, age 15_

_Date of Birth: June 30th, 1990_

_Always quiet, is very clean and only moves about to shower, eat, etc., not social, suffers from schizophrenia. Enjoys solitude but at same time enjoys company. ex. During time in the Meeting Hall, sits alone and wishes to be left alone but is upset to go back to his room at times. Seems to be wary of men with beards/goatees, is very kind to young girls between the ages of 10 and 12._

_Family pleaded for Kurosaki to stay home with his family; request denied._

_Reason for entry:_

_N/A_

_Notes:_

_Very quiet and obedient. Hasn't said anything yet. Takes good care of himself._

_Still hasn't said a word. A week's passed. Eats well. Very helpful. Helped Nel with her crayons._

_Didn't eat for a couple days, reason unknown. Still won't talk. Only shows emotions through physical movement or facial expression._

_Is staying in his room; hasn't been coming out for three days. Only went to the bathroom twice during this period._

_won't fuckin eat, dammit._

_just sitting there an starin._

_he's some freakin orange haired emo. ate a lil somethin today, finally_

_dear LORD, this nutjob is driving me crazy/eating normally again, but fuck, he won't talk_

_Stayed in his room for a while;refused to come out to socialize with the other patients. Is usually doing some sort of rhythmic pattern with his fingers, mostly the index fingers of both his hands._

_Kurosaki-san was shaking violently today. The tremors went all the way down to his feet, and his eyes became dilated. Didn't eat yesterday and is not eating today._

_Had a violent fit; was laughing dangerously. Eyes were extremely dilated, almost ripped straitjacket._

_Completely subdued since last week. Absolutely refuses to see other patients, showing symptoms of early depression._

_Was tired for most of the week; hasn't been sleeping well. Dark bags under eyes, pupils no longer dilated._

_Still not getting enough sleep, seems to be making an effort to take care of himself without eating, ex showering, brushing his teeth, etc., however, he refuses to eat and is only drinking water._

_Slowly gaining back weight, started eating once again. Brought Nel to see him. He seemed frightened. But not of Nel..he was very kind and seemed to enjoy her company, however._

At this point, Grimmjow halted his reading. The rest of the notes were the same, lacking a pattern but it was a constant repeat of no eating, fear, no eating, fear. Slowly, he placed the sheets of paper back into the folder, and as he closed the thick paper he thought..

_'Kurosaki...Kurosaki..Clinic?'_

* * *

Sorry for such a short chapter (unu);; I'll work harder on the next one! Thank you for reading my story. Reviews. Are. LOOOOOOVEEE TT/7/TT they really encourage me to post the next chapter and write new stories.

P.S.

Uploading the second chapter really confused me XD But I figured out how to do it! (._.)' I was very baffled. Sorry if you got spam in your inbox OTL


	3. Unexpected visits

"Whyyy...whywhywhywhy...," he moaned, his entire face held in the palm of his right hand. He shook his head and craned his neck to look out the window. The wind was fierce, and Grimmjow could hear the snow blowing everywhere. There weren't many windows in the asylum; however, Grimmjow only needed the one in his office to see that he wouldn't be able to drive back home. His car was most likely half buried in the snow.

Arrrggg, _why, life? Why?_

And then he thought, _Why ask why?_

And then he thought, _Because I wanna fucking know._

Grimmjow let out a long groan as he rested the side of his face onto the table. The wooden surface pressed into his cheek and would probably redden his skin, but he didn't care.

_Maybe, just maybe, I can drive through this damn hell of a storm.._

He looked outside again. It was pitch black. The snow was coming down so hard that it looked like the static fuzz on a TV screen. Yeah, he wasn't going anywhere.

Grimmjow felt quite sullen, and he was thinking of how long he would have to suffer before being able to go back home when the doorknob squeaked. He thought nothing of it and sighed. A click signaled that the door had been opened, and Grimmjow sat up and lazily leaned forward onto his desk.

"Yea—wha," was all he could manage.

* * *

"Gin..."

The ruffle of shirts sounded unusually loud inside the small closet. So did his breathing.

"I...haah.."

"Hmm?"

Gin and Shuuhei were sitting side-by-side within a small, stuffy closet. How they had gotten into such a predicament, they weren't exactly sure; thankfully, Gin had brought a tube of candy that happened to have a small electrical fan on it (the other black-haired male didn't bother to ask), which was keeping them from overheating and passing out. The air being blown from the fan ruffled Shuuhei's shirt, his panting heavy from the humidity of the closet and the body heat from..well, their bodies.

It was a very..._odd_ encounter they had made with someone they had never seen before around the asylum that caused them to become stuck in such a sticky pickle. Being stuck in a pickle was always bad, but a sticky pickle was much worse.

_What are we going to do?_ Shuuhei kept thinking. His arm getting too tired from holding up the candy-tube fan, he passed it to Gin and leaned back to let his head rest on the back of the wooden closet with a small _thud_.

"This is quite the pickle, eh?" said Gin.

"Quite a sticky pickle it is," replied the other.

They both sighed at the same time.

"Who do ya think that was?" Gin asked. He pushed a piece of his silver hair away from his eye.

"Not sure. You don't think..well, I mean, since we've never seen him before..," Shuuhei thought aloud, clutching his bruised shoulder and wincing.

"I don' think our fellow employees would jump us, so he probly' was a patient."

"What are we going to do? What if he gets out?" Fear swirled in Shuuhei's stomach, making him feel dizzy and sick.

"Well firs' we need ta' get outta this little pantry here," said Gin, a contemplative look on his thin face. "But I think if we try ta' knock the doors down, the cupboard would topple and we'd be stuck in an even stickier pickle than we are now."

"Our pickle would be covered in tar," sighed Shuuhei.

"We should just keep talkin', an' if someone comes by, they'll hear us and we'll hear them walking and they'll be able to get us out."

"Okay...I'm bored."

"Me too."

It went on like this for a while.

And then, after what felt like hours (but was most likely minutes), they heard distant footsteps coming their way. They began to yell loudly, begging for help and banging on the sides of the small closet.

"We're in here! HEY! Help!"

The footsteps paused, and for a moment Shuuhei imagined the devastating thought that perhaps the passerby had not heard them, and they would be stuck in the closet for hours longer, maybe even days..

There were some clicking noises from directly outside of the cupboard, then suddenly, the doors burst wide open.

"You two!"

The petite man outside the small cupboard stood with his usual dignified air. Two piercing blue eyes were glaring at Gin and Shuuhei, as if assuming that they had locked themselves in the closet on purpose.

"Tou-chan! You saved us, my love!" said Gin airily, jumping up and planting a kiss on "Tou-chan's" cheek.

Grimacing, the small white haired doctor swatted Gin's face away with a tiny flick of his hand. "What were you two doing in there?" he asked angrily.

"We kind of got..attacked?" said Shuuhei, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly.

"_Both_ of you? I'm hoping it was at least more than one person, then!" exclaimed Toushiro, his face contorted with biting irritation.

"I-..it was one person..," Shuuhei replied, now becoming a dark shade of magenta. "But he..he caught us by surprise, and, and he was really, I mean _really_ strong!"

"An' he caught us by s'prise!" Gin added once more.

"Even you, Gin?" said Toushiro as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "How could ONE person stuff BOTH of you into a closet?"

"Well he could've done it easily to _you_ considering how tiny you are!"

That was possibly the worst thing Shuuhei ever could have said in this situation.

He must have realized that rather quickly, considering how he paled quite a bit after seeing Toushiro's expression.

"What...did you...just...," Toushiro stuttered, shaking with silent fury. "You...you..."

"He didn' mean it, Tou-chan, was jus' a slip a' the tongue.."

"SILENCE!" yelled Toushiro, his face now darker than a tomato. "BOTH OF YOU..GET..GET BACK TO WORK! I DON'T WANT TO SEE YOU TWO SLACKING ANYMORE!"

"But Toushi-!" uttered Shuuhei.

"NO! Just..JUST GO!"

And with that, Gin and Shuhei quickly hurried and stumbled back to the lab, not daring to turn back or look over their shoulders.

* * *

"Grimmjow."

Stunned silence.

"_Grimmjow_."

A strangled wheeze.

"Excuse me?"

"What the hell'er you..shouldn't you be in a straitjacket...," Grimmjow replied lamely. "I..you.."

Sharp, luminescent green orbs stared directly into Grimmjow's, unimpressed by his stuttering and inability to pull himself together. After glaring across the desk at each other for a few seconds more, Grimmjow was finally able to string together an entire sentence.

"What the fuckin' dipshits are you doing here?"

The pale man from across Grimmjow remained stone-faced, looking rather much like a life-sized doll as he spoke, "A vulgar choice of words, as usual." He glanced quickly down at his wrist. "Ah, I haven't been able to completely eradicate my petty habit - I assume it is the influence of your presence. Or lack of it, in this case."

Grimmjow snorted. "You talk as horty-torty as ever, Kiki, for someone who was chucked into the funny farm."

Something strange flashed in his eyes as he retorted, "Please abstain from referring to me as 'Kiki.' My name is Ulquiorra, and that is what I wish to be called."

"Whatever, then. So back to my question! The fuck are you doin' here? How'd you even get here? You must've run inta somebody on your way down to my office, considering it's three floors above where you stay." As Grimmjow said this, he looked warily at the man across from him, his arms tense.

"That's not important. I have a reason for coming here, Grimmjow. You know very well that in my sneaking out, I have earned myself most likely ten times higher a security and possibly more tranquilizers."

"Must be something big. Did they neuter ya?"

"He'll be recruiting you soon."

Grimmjow stared at Ulquiorra blankly. "Who? Wait, what?"

"Do you have any tea here?"

"The fuck? No, I don't drink that pussy-piss. Now who's recruitin' me?"

"Your crude manners will not get you answers. Do you not have any refreshments in this monotonous office of yours?"

"Well your bitchy attitude ain't getting you refreshments."

Ulquiorra's lips had parted, ready to inflict an acute retort, when they both heard distant shouting from the hallways. The both of them froze in their seats. Hurried footsteps echoed towards them; Ulquiorra quickly pushed his chair out with a screech, his hand on the desk and his body half way out of his seat, but the footsteps quickly came and went past the door. He breathed a small sigh of relief.

Grimmjow had remained frozen throughout the entire heart-stopping moment, arms poised to lift him out of his chair. His eyes were wide with fear, his breathing heavy but quiet as he whispered, "I think you should go now."

Ulquiorra turned his eyes towards Grimmjow. "Yes, I believe that would be advisable." He paused for a moment. "Do not forget what I have told you."

"It's hard to remember things that don' make sense."

Glowing green eyes glared piercingly across the wooden desk as Ulquiorra maneuvered around the chair and scooted it in. He steadily walked towards the door, turned the knob and was almost completely out of the door when he spoke in a loud whisper, "Imbecile," and then left.

* * *

A/N - I promise there'll be more stuff on Ichigo in the next chapter OTL I'm improvising through this (which is terrible of me, I'm sorry) and so I'll have to work on a rough draft to get my ideas straight and whatnot and blablahblah you don't care lol so I'll just get to the point!

NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE MORE INTERESTING! I hope. shob. Bare with me.


	4. Ibuprofen

"Furg...holy crah...," muttered Grimmjow feebly. He slowly forced his head up off of his desk, sluggishly blinking twice before lifting his hand up to his forehead. "Damn..."

This had to be the worst headache he had ever had in his entire life.

Trying to motivate himself with the thought of painkillers to soothe his violently pounding brain, he sluggishly scooted his chair out using his feet as he pushed against the edge of his desk. After causing his desk to go crooked, he heaved himself out of his chair...

...and fell.

Mumbling curses at his terrible and unlucky life, he forced himself off the surface of his desk and angrily rubbed his face with his hand. Suddenly, a loud bang coming from his door caused him to flinch. Creaking his eyes open, he inwardly cursed some more at his horrible and depressing and terrible, unlucky life.

"GOOD MOOORNING, GRIMMJOW-SAAAAAN!"

"Oh my fuckin...," growled Grimmjow, glaring death through squinted eyes at the person standing in his doorway.

"Wasn't that so fun, yesterday? Grimmjow-san? The snowstorm was just _wonderful_! Snow is just so beautiful, almost as much as I am! I can't believe we all got to sleep in the building! Together! It was like a big, big slumber party, wasn't it, Grimmjow-san? Grimmjow-san? Are you alright, Grimmjow-san? Is something wrong, Grimmjow-san..."

"Please...shut up...," Grimmjow moaned quietly into the palm of his hand, his eyes squeezed shut as he tried to block out the rambling of his shit-brained colleague. His headache quickly evolved into a migraine, no thanks to Yumichika's incessant yammer.

"..Well anyway, the snowstorm's passed, so you can either go home and come back in an hour or just stay here. But you'll probably have to work if you decide to stay, and I don't think you'll get any extra pay since this place is so cheap, I mean really! I've been asking for a raise for who knows how long.."

_Great_, thought Grimmjow, _It takes me thirty damn minutes to go home and come back so it'd be a total waste of time..._

"Listen, Yumichika," said Grimmjow, stopping the chattering-machine mid-sentence, "I have one hell of a headache right now, so I'd appreciate it if ya shut up and got me some ibuprofen instead a' making it worse with yer nonstop whinin'."

Yumichika's eyebrows pulled together as his lips formed an irritated pout. "You're so mean, Grimmjow!" he complained, purposely dropping the honorific. "Fine, I'll go get you your painkillers, you grumpy old man. Such a sexy body wasted, with such a boring guy inhabiting it, eh..." he continued as he walked out of the office and down the hallway, his voice slowly becoming less and less audible.

_Just give up already, man!_

"Shut up.."

_Listen, ya gonna lose either way. Yer never gonna have a fuckin' normal life. I'm never gonna leave ya._

"Fuck...just shut up.."

_An' look at ya now! Still tryin' to keep me down..what good has __**that**__ done, eh? How much better has yer life gotten, eh? Nearly killed yer sis, and now yer chucked in the loony bin! Hahaha..._

"Hey...look at this..."

Szayel quietly tapped over to the screen that Shuuhei had designated, peering over his shoulder to take a look.

"Hm? Isn't that the Kurosaki boy?"

"Yeah..he's usually pretty stable, sitting against the wall..but it looks like he's kind of distressed..," Shuuhei replied, inching closer to the screen to get a better look. The Kurosaki patient was currently sitting up in a tight ball, clutching his hair and visibly shaking, jaw movements indicating that he was talking were just barely visible.

"Hnn..well, is it really something to worry about? I mean, it's not time for him to be fed or anything, so nobody has to deal with him unless he starts going haywire..," Szayel replied in his usual drawl, flamboyantly flipping a piece of his shoulder-length pink hair off his shoulder.

"I guess..I'm not sure why, though, but I just have this feeling.."

"Ah, Shuu-kun's notorious intuition!" Szayel exclaimed, leaning closer to Shuuhei. "Something bad will happen soon," he whispered.

"Hey guys! What's goin' on in here?"

Both Szayel and Shuuhei turned their heads towards the voice, though both of them already knew who it belonged to.

"Shuu-kun just 'had a feeling,' Gin. What do you think? Something ominous will happen, for sure, ne?" said Szayel, his smirk wider than usual.

"Oo! Sounds exciting!" said Gin, quickly striding across the room towards Shuuhei. "Who's the poor victim a' Shuuhei's forebodin' fortune-telling powers this time, eh?"

"You guys..," Shuuhei sighed, his head in his hand. "I just.."

All of the sudden, quick motions grabbed the attention of all three men, their heads turning quickly to Kurosaki's screen, where the mental patient was currently thrashing and yelling mutely, his hands grasping onto his head tightly.

The air outside was biting cold, snow covering almost everything so that it was impossible to drive on the frozen streets. Grimmjow was currently trekking over the mostly solid ice, though one of his feet would occasionally sink into the feet-deep snow.

_"Grimmjow, we're out of painkillers!" cried Yumichika, once again unnecessarily banging open his office door._

_ "What? Is this damn place a hospital or not?" Grimmjow cursed, immediately regretting his outburst as he pressed his fingers against his temples._

_ "There's a clinic nearby here, though. Even though there's a lot of snow, you could still walk to it, it's about a fifteen minutes behind the asylum. I could go buy some," said Yumichika cheerfully._

_ "Yeah, yeah, you go do that..," Grimmjow groaned, leaning back into his chair._

_ "Yumichika-san!"a man yelled at the doorway, panting._

_ "Eh? What is it?"_

_ "You're needed in sect four, ASAP!"_

_ "Hah!" Yumichika glanced at Grimmjow. "Looks like you're gonna have to go buy it yourself!" And after winking and blowing a kiss at Grimmjow, he was off._

"Ch'," Grimmjow grunted, kicking a small stone with his old gray boots. He had finally gotten off the snow covered backyard of the asylum, now treading on a rocky street that had recently been plowed. Everything looked like the same shade of his boots, a dull and worn out gray, after the violent snowstorm. The sky was gray, the clouds were gray, the little pebbles and rocks were gray. His head was still aching, and his neck was sore from sleeping in a strange position. All of his joints and bones felt tired and worn out, but he forced himself to keep trudging on to the clinic, feeling as though thick ropes were pulling him and forcing his weary legs to keep moving.

Pulling one of his hands out of his trench coat pocket, he tugged his dark red scarf up to cover his mouth. The cold air was stabbing at his lungs, his breath clearly visible whenever he exhaled through his nose. Quickly rubbing his hands together for warmth, he trudged on, his mind in too much pain to think about anything.

After stumbling once or twice over some particularly large stones and massaging his freezing cold head with a countenance of utter grumpiness, the clinic loomed into view. Its small structure and the warm, yellowish light emitting from its windows seemed to give it a nice cozy feel. Speeding up the pace a bit, Grimmjow finally reached the door and wrapped his fingers around the cold metal handle.

Twist. Twist twist. Twist twist twist.

"God dammit!" Grimmjow spat, quietly pressing his head flat against the door.

Closed.

Why the hell was it closed.

Just as he was about to turn around and head back towards the asylum, the doorknob twitched, and Grimmjow looked downwards to see that it was slowly turning. All too fast, the door swung open, Grimmjow nearly falling face-first onto the floor.

What had cushioned him from that fall was a man.

A man that greatly resembled a goat.

"O, HO HO HO HO HO! IT SEEMS DADDY FORGOT TO UNLOCK THE DOOR THIS MORNING! WELCOME, CUSTOMER! WHAT CAN I HELP YOU WITH TODAY?"

Grimmjow, who was extremely tired and slightly in shock, rolled off of the goat-man and decided to stay lying on the floor in a fetal position.

"Hah? Daddy, who's that? He doesn't look so good..."

"What'd you do to him, old man? Can't you even treat the customers right? Jeez.."

"Daddy didn't do anything to him! This blue-haired man here actually fell on Daddy! Daddy could use some love right now.."

A "thwack" resounded across the room, along with a small gasp and a "HAAGAAGAAGA" that was most likely sputtered out by the "Daddy" who had just gotten a good slap on the head.

"Masaki...our daughters are so cruel..."

"Shut up, goat-face."

"Um...excuse me, sir..."

Grimmjow didn't budge.

"Sir? Sir, are you alright..?"

_Fuck...my head..._

He slowly opened his eyes, bright florescent lights making him squint.

_My nose...so stuffed...dammit, it's fuckin' hot in here..._

"Ah, I think he's awake.."

Grimmjow's hand instinctively reached up to his head as he tried to push himself up with his other arm. The small hospital bed that he was currently lying on creaked as he pulled what was probably a wet towel off of his forehead, the room swaying as he struggled to focus his eyesight. The walls were, unlike a hospital, not white, but a soft tan color, which Grimmjow was thankful for. He hated that about hospitals – the constant blinding whiteness.

"Um, Grimmjow-san..."

"Unh..wha..f...how do you know my name?" Grimmjow croaked feebly, his throat extremely dry and sore.

"Y-your nametag, sir," the young girl replied, pushing her hair behind her ear and avoiding eye contact. "Do you feel okay?"

_No, I feel like shit _Grimmjow thought peevishly. "I could use some water."

"Oh!" She grabbed a glass that was sitting on the small table next to the bed and filled it up with water from a pitcher, quickly handing it to Grimmjow. "You have a pretty bad fever, so um, I don't think you should go anywhere right now.."

After downing the entire glass in one gulp, the doctor flopped backwards onto the bed and covered his eyes with his arms. _The fuck. How long am I gonna have to stay here? Better call work..._

"Yuzu, is he awake yet? Oh," said a young black-haired girl standing in the doorway. She walked over to the bed and felt Grimmjow's forehead. "He's burning up. He'll need some painkillers and something for his fever. Go get goat-face."

Yuzu nodded and quietly strode out of the room. Karin plopped herself into the chair Yuzu had been sitting in and scooted it closer to the edge of the bed so that she could lean against the small table beside it.

"So, you work at the asylum?"

"What'd you go through my wallet or somethin'?" Grimmjow replied as he broke out into a cold sweat. The fever was getting worse.

"No, your clothes," the girl pointed out, her expression a constant deadpan.

_Oh. Duh. _"Yeah, I work at the asylum. Why?"

"...No reason, really," she said, turning her head to the side. "My name's Karin, by the way."

"Grimmjow, though you probably already know from my name tag," the doctor sighed. "So is that 'goat-face' guy the owner of this place?"

"Yeah, he's my dad," she answered. "..Unfortunately," she added as an afterthought.

Turning his head so that he was facing the wall beside him, Grimmjow sighed deeply. _I don't think I even have the fuckin' energy to get my damn phone outta my pocket._

"Hahaha! So our dear Blueberry is awake!"

A vein throbbed in Grimmjow's forehead. _The hell did he just call me? _He slowly turned his head towards the doorway, his eyebrows furrowed and his breath coming in pants.

"I've got some painkillers and fever medicine right here, so if you could take them with this water," the goat-face said as he handed a glass to Grimmjow, "that would be EXCELLENT!" he exclaimed with a goofy grin. "My name is Isshin Kurosaki and I shall be your miracle doctor today!"

Grimmjow pushed himself into a sitting position and took the pills obediently. In less than a minute he began to feel incredibly sleepy, his eyelids drooping as he slid down onto his back. The thought of calling the institution to tell them where he was nagged at his brain, but he felt so weak and tired..

_They probably won't miss me anyway..._

"Where the _hell_ is Grimmjow?"

Yawning widely, Starkk stretched and leaned back against Grimmjow's office wall. "Maybe he's in the bathroom doing his business or something."

Szayel pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes shut tight and his lips pulled in a grimace. "Did he accept the offer to watch over patient number fifteen?"

"Hm...I think so," Starkk replied, blinking drowsily. "That's room six, the Kurosaki kid, right?"

"Yes," Szayel sighed. _Where could that imbecile have gone off to?_

"Grimmjow-san, look, I found a bottle of painkillers way in the back of the cupboard, aren't I so wonde - oh, what's this? Szayel, Starkk?" Yumichika asked, his head slightly tilted to the side. "What's going on?"

"We're looking for Grimmmmmm-jow," Starkk said, yawning once again.

"It's information regarding the patient he was supposed to start supervising today," said Szayel impatiently, his eyes glinting with annoyance. "Do you have any clue as to where he might be?" he asked, pushing his glasses up irritatedly with his ring and middle fingers.

"Oh, um, I told him we ran out of painkillers, so he went to buy some from the clinic behind the asylum..," Yumichika replied, blinking twice with a look of confusion. "He should be back by now.."

"That idiot probably got lost," Szayel huffed.

"Well he seemed to have a pretty bad migraine when he left," Yumichika commented, glancing from Starkk to Szayel. He mostly stared at Starkk, however, from his dark chestnut hair and burly yet soft facial features and his...

"Hey!" Szayel snapped, clapping his hands in front of Yumichika's face. "I _asked_ you a _question_, you good-for-nothing little-"

Starkk sighed, "Let's just wait for Grimmjow to come back, Szayel." He placed his large hand onto Szayel's slender shoulder and began to push the bubblegum pink-haired man out the door. "Yumichika, can you stay here and tell us when he gets back?"

A dazed look floated onto Yumichika's face as he ran his slender fingers through his sleek black hair. "Sure," was all he replied.

"Thanks," grunted Starkk as he pushed the rambling Szayel through the hallway until said man slapped the brunette's hand off his shoulder.

"He remembered my name..," Yumichika whispered to himself, blinking twice in a clouded manner. "He actually remembered.."

* * *

Haha, I'm super sorry for such a late update. I'M GIVING YOU GUYS HOPE ;A; ngnfgjnf

thanks all for the +favs/alert subs u _ u uugghhh bleh Iluuuu alllll

especially those who actually reviewed this ;n; mwah!

++there will be no YumixStarkk, Yumi will just be the guy that is obviously gay and admires every hot guy in the hospital LOL


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